REVIEW: Next to Normal

Next to Perfection

A year and a half ago, I saw Next to Normal at Second Stage Theatre in New York—an off-Broadway theatre known for producing new, inventive works. Once it closed its off-Broadway run the show was reworked and opened at DC’s Arena Stage. After further re-working, the show has landed at the Booth Theatre on Broadway.

Having seen the show in each of its incarnations, Next to Normal has solidified its place on my list of all-time favorite musicals. It’s a haunting piece—disturbing at times and captivating throughout. It’s difficult to share much about the story without giving away the show’s secrets; secrets that are revealed at just the right moment. The first and most dramatic revelation is so well directed by Michael Grief that the audience gasps in unison. The precedent is set, and as the performance continues, we experience a series of shocks that suddenly alter the plot.

Next to Normal is about unconditional love, neglect, pain, sorrow, and relationships. It’s about finding oneself, losing oneself, and exploring the unknown. The small cast is brilliant. Three of them were Tony-nominated for their work in this show. Alice Ripley won the Tony for her amazing and convincing portrayal of Diana, the wife and mother who is struggling with mental illness. Her rendition of I Miss the Mountains gives us a glimpse into her world of emptiness. J. Robert Spencer plays her husband, Dan who is strong, angry, and committed to being there for his wife. Their daughter Natalie, played by Jennifer Damiano, is particularly brilliant as she sings Superboy and the Invisible Girl, a song in which she explains the pain of growing up in her brother’s shadow.

Kyle Dean Massey plays Gabriel, loving son and tormentor. His strong vocal ability and charismatic presence work perfectly in this role. The cast is rounded out by Adam Chandler-Berat and Louis Hobson, each exactly right as the stoner boyfriend and the prescription-writing doctor, respectively.

The creators of Next to Normal have pulled together a production so rich and layered that you must see it more than once. The subtleties along the way provide effective foreshadowing. It is extremely gratifying to reflect on what you’ve seen and to experience that amazing a-ha moment when it all sinks in. It is story-telling at its finest.

Next to Normal falls into the category of shows that make me long to be back in the theatre producing community. The music, the overall design—sets, costume, and lighting—all perfect. The staging, complex and simple as needed, is spot on. And the performances across the board are brilliant. It’s the kind of show I could see again and again. In fact, three times is just not enough—I can’t wait to see Next to Normal again.

REVIEW: Hair

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

There’s a whole lot of buzz about the current Broadway revival of Hair. Music, fun-loving hippies, drugs, sex, rock and roll—it’s loud, bright, and boasts full frontal nudity (both men and women). What’s not to love?

Well, let’s start with the plot – there just isn’t much of one. In fact, the entire show is really a collection of songs thrown together with the thinnest of connective anything. A few of the songs are standouts, Aquarius, Let the Sun Shine, Easy to Be Hard … hmm, that might be it. I’m sure there are other songs in the show, but they are just not very memorable.

But what’s weak in concept can be balanced out by a talented cast, right? At my performance, Gavin Creel (who usually plays Claude and has been heralded for his performance) was out. His understudy, Paris Remillard, was—I want to be as diplomatic as possible here—terrible. How do actors get cast in Broadway leading rolls (or even as understudies for leading roles) without the ability to sing on pitch? Remillard was consistently sharp throughout the show, sometimes painfully so. It was like he and his Tribal colleagues were singing in different keys.

The Tribe (aka chorus) could not have been less engaged in the show. At several points throughout, one member of the company was so into a private conversation with a co-chorister, that she practically forgot she had choreography. When she realized that other cast members were already doing their move, she quickly jumped in. Right after however, she was back to goofing with her colleague and together they constantly scanned the audience. Were they looking for their agents in hopes of getting out of their contracts?

OK, but did the design save the day? Mostly, the set is fine and the lights are bright. But near the end of the show, when Claude came out in his military uniform after being drafted into the military, I don’t know WHAT was going on with his hair. Yes, his long locks were gone, but he should have been in a perfect military cut. Instead, he was sporting his own contemporary cut, and had a big piece of black tape stuck to his forehead. I assume the tape was to hold his mic in place, but it was just bizarre. It was as if he was a last minute replacement for Creel and the production team didn’t have time to rehearse him (or his quick change into his final look). Was the tape intentional or just a wardrobe malfunction? Who knows!

And just to make sure that everything is balanced in this cosmic mess, the audience also misbehaved. About 45 minutes into Act one, a secret service-looking man appeared on the floor just to the right of the stage. On the other side, just to the left of the stage, a similar looking person appeared. Each had an ear-piece and was clearly very official. As the Act ended and the house lights came up, these two people, accompanied by two more who seemed to magically appear, rushed to the front of the audience and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, please stay seated for just a moment.” And then they ascended on a couple in the third row and escorted them (and their video camera) out of the theatre. What were these people thinking? Even with a show espousing peace and love, I still hate people.

The production ends with an onstage dance party and “Be-In.” The audience is invited to go onstage during the curtain calls to dance. Unfortunately, any magic of seeing people dancing and enjoying the freedom of moment is marred by the jackasses who decide they are stars and fight their way down center to prance and mug for the rest of the audience as if to say, “This is my moment. Look at me, damn you.” Another reason I hate people.

I believe that the mind tends to shade everything we experience and help us filter out the bad memories. Maybe that is Hair’s secret. That dance party at the end is meant to leave us with a great feeling of joy and happiness. If we end up dancing and singing in the aisles we will only remember the high and not fixate on how bad the show is. For my money, I’d rather have a plot, some nice music, and a lead that can actually sing.

REVIEW: 9 to 5 — The Musical

The Caffeinated Musical

From the first downbeat, the stage at the Marriot Marquis explodes into motion. There are things popping up and down out of the floor, sets tracking on and off, huge scenic elements flying in and out, and a back wall that looks like one of those gigantic electronic signs in Times Square. Once the show starts, the set does not stop moving until after the bows. It creates the frantic pace and atmosphere appropriate for this java-buzzed musical.

9 to 5 is a fun show—it’s not great theatre, but it’s fun. The audience has a great time, and it seems that the cast is having a great time too. This show brings in a crowd equally fun to watch. I love that people refer to the show’s three stars by the names of the actors who played the same roles in the film version of the show. When they refer to Megan Hilty (who is phenomenal as Doralee), they don’t call her Megan or Doralee. Rather, they say, “That precious little girl who plays Dolly sounds just like her.” Or they say, “I just love the one playing Jane Fonda, and that gal playing Lily is wonderful.” But then again, these are the people that 9 to 5 was written and created for.

I saw a Wednesday night performance. My next-seat neighbors arrived in NY from their home in Tennessee on Tuesday and saw 9 to 5 that night. They saw both performances on Wednesday. After the show as we walked by an usher, they squealed, “We’ll see you tomorrow. We have one more.”

These are the same people who are devastated by the news that the show is closing and have made it their mission to trek to New York en masse to support it. Over and over, these folks lamented the show’s fate. I smiled as they said to each other (but loud enough for everyone to hear), “It’s almost a full house! Why are they closing it?” It was as if they were trying to convince the rest of us to join their crusade to keep the show running. Their dedication is inspiring.

By contrast, the people sitting on the other side of me, a girl and a boy (both late teens) clearly there with their parents, were so busy texting that they had no time for the show. Texting is annoying in general—but it’s even more so (not to mention illegal) in a Broadway theatre. Have I mentioned that I hate people?

The show’s director, Joe Mantello, has assembled a cast that looks and sounds great. The stars are perfect for their roles. Megan Hilty is the blonde with a brain. Stephanie J. Block brings down the house in her solo “Get Out and Stay Out” and Allison Janney is delightful as the want-to-be CEO. Mark Kudish is dastardly as Mr. Hart—the self proclaimed sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot. But the real star of this show is the ensemble who is put through an incredible workout at each performance by choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler. Every office work-simulating movement—filing a file, delivering a package, typing a memo—is punctuated in syncopated perfection. The visual effect is exhausting and wonderful.

9 to 5 is a crowd pleaser, but not necessarily for the New York audiences. It is pure fun. There’s no great message, no high art, no deep meanings. It is entertainment and for that, it’s great. I’m not surprised that the show is closing in New York after the summer tourist season, and launching its tour in Nashville. I expect the show to be a huge, sell-out as it treks across the country.

I’ll bet those devoted fans sitting next to me will be first in line to buy tickets when 9 to 5 plays their hometown. Good for them!

The Color Purple: Shades of Mediocrity

A couple of weeks ago, I saw the National Tour of The Color Purple at the Kennedy Center in Washington, DC. The highly-promoted tour stars Fantasia (who, from the title page of the program no longer needs her last name, Barino). Even though Fantasia gave a really solid performance that night, it’s taken me a while to write about the show. Honestly, it’s taken me a while to dissect my feelings about it.

To be fair, The Color Purple is not a bad musical—it’s perfectly fine. But in many ways, I think that mediocrity is the show’s downfall.

In the mid 80s, when I was in college at an arts conservatory in North Carolina, just down the road the legendary Stephen Spielberg was filming the screen adaptation of Alice Walker’s masterpiece, The Color Purple. This was particularly important because it meant an opportunity for art school students to appear in the Spielberg film as an extra. There was tremendous buzz on campus, and several of my friends and classmates ended up surviving the editing room floor and are forever immortalized in the film that made Whoopi and Oprah household names. The daily cafeteria chatter was the kind that defines film legends, “Yesterday, Spielberg stopped production for six hours waiting for the perfect cloud formation.”

Who knows whether or not the stories grew over time or even ever happened, but the thought that they might be true made Spielberg a genius in our minds. And the film version of The Color Purple did not disappoint. The film is lush, sweeping, touching, and beautiful. John Williams’ score mapped perfectly to every scene, giving real emotion and desperation to the characters and the setting.

This brings me back to the stage musical version of the same name. The Color Purple, the musical, is not lush and at times is not even melodic. The score is more forgettable and the book is a forced compilation of iconic moments, each reminding us of the same moment in the film. Every memorable line from the movie is here, but the context that strings these moments together is missing.

The worst offense is at the beginning of Act II with the representation of Africa. The scene looks like a moment designed to mock The Lion King—when the dead antelope is carried out, it looks like a Forbidden Broadway parody of The Circle of Life.

As I said, The Color Purple is not a bad show. But it should have been an amazing show. It should have been beautiful and touching. It should have captivated its audience and left not a dry eye in the house. It just didn’t.

I think the thing that disappoints me the most, is that The Color Purple is a marketing gift—with Oprah’s endorsement, the familiarity of the film, and Alice Walker’s powerful story, this show is packing in crowds of people who almost never go to the theatre. Here is an opportunity to introduce non-theatre goers to the magic of the stage—to get them hooked and coming back again and again. Rather than leverage this powerful property by producing a brilliant theatrical event, this audience is deceived into thinking that The Color Purple is theatrical genius. Everyone raves, and Oprah said that it’s good—therefore, it must be. The opportunity to educate, to inspire, and to introduce magic has been wasted.

I had a teacher at that North Carolina arts school who used to say, “There is no room in the arts for mediocrity.” Clearly, she hadn’t yet seen The Color Purple.

REVIEW: Spring Awakening

Spring Awakening, currently running at the Kennedy Center’s Eisenhower Theatre, provides a fresh perspective on teenage sexuality, masturbation, rape, faith, child molestation, physical abuse, and suicide—and those are the high-level themes. This extremely smart and inventive Tony Award-winning theatrical treat, with music by Duncan Sheik and book/lyrics by Steven Sater, is based on the 1891 German play by Frank Wedekind.

The music in this production is completely unique—part rock, part folk. When this show first premiered in NY, I couldn’t listen to the CD. I just couldn’t get into it; the sound seemed strange, forced in a way, and not at all melodic. However, once I saw the show the first time and had some context for the music, I couldn’t get it out of my head. It’s brilliant.

There are many things that make this show a standout, starting with the choreography. Thanks to Bill. T. Jones, the cast is put through a very demanding workout at each performance—body parts flying, feet stomping, awkward dance steps and movement that seems, at times, almost violent. We see the young characters take out their frustration and anger through movement, and the energy is phenomenal.

Director Michael Mayer, has masterfully pulled Christine Jones’ set design, Kevin Adams’ lighting design, and Susan Hilferty’s costume design together in a magical and deliberate way. The simple, abandoned church-like set, is full of surprises. There are relics strategically placed on the back wall which at first glance, mean nothing—these are simple stage decorations. But during the show, one by one, these relics become highlighted and take on a much deeper meaning. At times, this subtlety is as haunting as the dark secrets that emerge through the music and the story.

The show is filled with anachronisms, in a delightful way. It is late nineteenth century Germany, yet the characters talk about, “turning up the stereo” and sing lines like, “Get real Jose, by now you know the score.”

There are several bright talents in this cast, starting with Blake Bashoff who plays the troubled and tragic Moritz. Bashoff brings incredible life and energy to the role and his rendition of And Then There Was None is both chilling and foreboding. Later, Don’t Do Sadness, a duet performed with Ilse, brilliantly played by Steffi D, allows both actors the freedom to be completely expressive in a performance that feels almost out of control. The irony is that both actors are in complete control, and every spontaneous gesture is extremely measured and perfect.

Jake Epstein, as Melchior, shines in Totally Fucked. Epstein’s co-star Christy Altomare is an innocent and vulnerable Wendla. Together they become a sweet couple who explore love, pain, and each other.

Spring Awakening is extremely complex. Typically, when I see a show, I have tremendous recall for abstract elements—lighting cues, timing, the location of entrances and exits, how and when scenery moves, etc. I credit my years as a stage manager for being able to recall specifics about actor movement and choreography. However, with Spring Awakening, I am challenged and can only recall a few moments. Throughout the show my senses became so overwhelmed, my eye struggled to know where to focus next. But that didn’t matter much because anywhere I looked, I saw theatrical magic—whether it was an actor somersaulting across the stage, a student vigorously berating his teacher only inches from his face, or the person next to me pulling a microphone out of his vest pocket and becoming part of the action.

Spring Awakening is not for everyone. It can be vulgar, abrasive, raw and gritty. It can also be warm, innocent, and sweet. For me, the best of all theatrical events mixes all of these elements to touch its audience. Spring Awakening doesn’t just do that, it excels at it.

A Giant, a Princess, and a Queen … and other tales of the theatre

I’m back.

Sorry for the lengthy delay in new posts, but I’ve been busy! Since I’ve been renovating my house, I’ve had more than enough excuses to get out and see some theatre, but haven’t had the time (or energy) to write about them. I’m woefully behind in my reviews, so I’ll give you mini-reviews of the nine shows I caught in June. I’ll be back on track in July, starting with Spring Awakening at the Kennedy Center.

Giant – Signature Theatre (VA)
Giant, based on the 1956 film of the same name, was billed as a “Texas-Sized Musical.” It was a monstrosity of a production weighing in at almost 4 hours. This show is best described by the words of a friend who also saw it, “There was enough material in that show to make 3 bad musicals.” I couldn’t agree more—although, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.

Turandot-Washington National Opera (DC-Kennedy Center)
Who decided it would be a good idea to ask opera singers (already known for overacting) to do a Kabuki-style Turandot? The result was a production with performances so over-the-top that is was difficult to watch, including a Princess who was just downright laughable.

Hedwig & the Angry Inch-The Warehouse (DC)
I had such high hopes for this production. The cast and creative team of this tale of this German “girlyboy” who suffers a botched sexchange, hails from my alma mater, the North Carolina School of the Arts. I expected the production to be wonderful—filled with talented new-comers. Maybe we would see the work of the next Joe Mantello or Mary-Louise Parker. Well … ok…maybe this was an off year for NCSA. This was not their best work. (Sorry Pickles.)

Arcadia – Folger Shakespeare Theatre (DC)
Outstanding. Never have I seen Tom Stoppard’s work take on so much life and energy. The cast including Holly Twyford was absolutely top-notch. Finally, after a run of a few bad shows in a row, someone hit one out of the park!

Looped—Arena Stage (DC-Lincoln Theatre)
Valerie Harper stars as Tallulah Bankhead. The show started strong—when she made her first entrance, the audience wanted to love her. But after an hour of witnessing a recording session where Tallulah is trying unsuccessfully to record her one line for one of her films, I was ready to give up on Looped. I really just wanted to go grab a drink and a snack with her sister, Brenda.

The Last Cargo Cult (DC-Woolly Mammoth Theatre)
Mike Daisey, the noted monologist was in town recently. I got to experience a rare treat. He appeared for one night only at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre to debut his newest work, The Last Cargo Cult. Daisey is genius and demonstrated his master story teller ability in this first telling of his new monologue. Woolly has announced that this piece will be in their next season—tickets are on sale now and I urge you to buy quickly. Mike Daisey has a huge fan base and the run will sell out.

Fever/Dream-(DC-Woolly Mammoth Theatre)
What a joy! This fast-paced romp through the ugly underbelly of corporate America was a theatrical treat. Everything about it—performances, direction, design—perfect. I absolutely loved it.

A Fox on the Fairway (VA-Signature Theatre)
It’s a rare treat to see a staged reading of a brand new play by a noted playwright, read by a first-rate cast, and directed by Tony Award-winning director. Such was the case when I saw the premiere reading of A Fox on the Fairway, by Ken Ludwig (Lend me a Tenor), as directed by John Rando (Urinetown). The experience was better than the play, which was read for an audience for the very first time. With some strategic edits, Ludwig will have another hit. I’m betting that Signature Theatre scores the official premiere.

Design for Living (DC-Washington Shakespeare Theatre)
Ugh … another drawing room comedy. This pointless story features uneven acting at best, and bad acting at worst. A lobby sign indicated the running time as 2 hours and 50 minutes. The performance started on-time, and nearly 3 and a half hours later we finally hit the curtain call. What a mess! The best part of this experience was the tapas and beer at Jose Andres’ Jaleo next door—and even that didn’t make up for having to sit through this show.

Now you’re up to date. Next up on the show list, Spring Awakening at the Kennedy Center.

REVIEW: Rent

Everything is RENT

No matter how many times you experience it, RENT is an American musical classic. In my case, seeing the new tour of RENT at the Warner Theatre meant experiencing the show for the 15th time. Seeing it this time however meant that, for the first time, I would see a performance with two of the original stars, Anthony Rapp and Adam Pascal. Of course, both performers starred in the film version of RENT, but this would be my first time seeing them live onstage.

Honestly, I expected to be disappointed. I expected to see two actors playing characters far too young for them. After all, they were the originals in 1996—13 years ago. At that time, they were age-appropriate for Mark and Roger. How could they possibly still be right for these roles? Having recently experienced an aged Ted Neeley in his pathetic star turn in Jesus Christ Superstar at this same theatre, I had good reason to be skeptical.

I was surprised and delighted to see that Rapp and Pascal could still pull it off. They looked great, sounded great, and for the most part seemed completely engaged in the show. Only once or twice did Pascal appear to be exhibiting a “just get me through this” mentality. They seemed genuinely committed—committed to their roles, committed to the show, and committed to giving this rock concert-like (and capacity) audience a great performance.

Each time I see RENT, I see something different. The show is layered with content and subtext, the staging complex, and the subtleties rich. Tonight I realized that during the ballad Without You, Angel, Mimi, and Roger take turns on the hospital bed with an IV next to it—a brilliantly simple and effective demonstration of the never-ending and random hospital visits that someone with AIDS faces. And, when Mimi is trying to seduce Roger, she is parroting the same words from the HIV support group, “No day but today.”

This time, I took a friend who had never experienced RENT. She didn’t see it on Broadway or any of the tours to the DC area. She even managed to escape seeing the film. After the show, the first thing she said was, “Can we see it again?”

When RENT first hit the NY stage, I kept the cast recording in my car CD-changer for well over a year. I was completely obsessed with the music and it became a vital part of my life. Having seen the show several times on Broadway, many times in cities across the country, and even London’s West End production, it remains one of my favorite shows of all time. In fact, when the Broadway production announced its closing, I made the journey back to New York for one final visit with my friends in Alphabet City.

Seeing this tour was a sweet reminder of who these friends are. It made me realize again, how much I miss Maureen, Joanne, Roger, Mark, Tom, Benny, Mimi and of course Angel. They will be with me forever. And, the CD set is now back in my car.

REVIEW: The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall

Today, I saw a new production at Washington DC’s Theatre J called The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall. Perhaps the best part of my experience today was the dinner and cocktails with friends that followed at a local restaurant called Logan Tavern – the Buffalo shrimp appetizer was absolutely amazing. The show at Theatre J, on the other hand, was perfectly adequate, but not outstanding.

Logan Tavern’s Buffalo shrimp were tender, spicy, and delicious. The show was a little bland and somewhat flavorless.

The modern comedy focuses on a would-be Broadway musical book writer (Josh Lefkowitz) and his gay, stoner composer friend (Matt Anderson) who set their sights on securing the rights to write the musical version of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. The humor in the script is lacking and the characters in the show become more stereotype than interesting.

One of the funniest moments in the show was unscripted, and involved an elderly couple in the front row of the audience who dropped their box-office issued hearing devices. They both took turns standing up, fishing around under their seats, complaining in full voice that they couldn’t find their hearing aids. Meanwhile, the actors were struggling to continue the action onstage. Just at that moment, the narrator of the story has a line where he says something like, “Maybe I’m just being an asshole.” When he delivered that line, he broke the magical fourth wall of the stage, and said it DIRECTLY to the disruptive couple. It didn’t help, but it was entertaining, and it warranted a good round of the giggles from me and my fellow theatre-goers.

The Rise and Fall of Annie Hall is not a bad play. This is an average production, with an average cast, an average design, and average direction. I just wish it could borrow some of the spice and intensity of the wonderful Buffalo shrimp at Logan Tavern. We would all have been a little more satisfied.

REVIEW: Ragtime

When I heard that Washington DC’s Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts was opening an all-new production of Ragtime, my first reaction was … why? After all, it was only about 9 years ago that Ragtime closed on Broadway—a production that ran for about 2 years, earned 13 Tony nominations and won 4 Tonys including Best Music and Lyrics. That same production earned 14 Drama Desk nominations and earned 5 Awards including Best New Musical.

Having seen the original production three times—the LA premiere, the Broadway production, and the First National Tour, I thought I knew the show, the staging, and the overall concept. I love Ragtime. So why do we need a new production, when the original was by most accounts (including my own), close to perfection?

As the curtain rises at the Kennedy Center, these questions are gone. This is not just a new production; it is a different production. It is, in many ways, a better production. The glorious music is still there, courtesy of Stephen Flaherty. Lynn Ahrens’ brilliant lyrics are still there, and the captivating book by Terrence McNally is unchanged.

The difference is the vast human emotion brought to the forefront in this re-envisioned interpretation.

The performances at the Kennedy Center are incredible and solid across the cast. Quentin Earl Darrington who stars as Coalhouse Walker is mesmerizing. I found it difficult to take my eyes off him even for a second. His voice is commanding yet gentle and when he discovers he has fathered a child, a full range of emotions flows over his face. Darrington is a master at conveying emotion. We understand every thought going through his head, without hearing a single word. As the story progresses Darrington’s Coalhouse transforms. His innocence and bright-eyed wonder are gone, and he becomes determined, jaded, and angry. And as the show reaches a dramatic conclusion, he is transformed yet again. When he sings, “Make Them Hear You,” the audience is too captivated to utter a sound. We somehow know that he has made peace with his fate. In the show’s final minutes, we know what’s about to happen, and because of Darrington’s outstanding performance, we sense Coalhouse does too. Quentin Earl Darrington gives us a rare and brilliant evening of theatre.

While every single member of this cast should be singled out for their contribution to this show, three performances are exceptional—Christiane Noll as Mother, Manoel Felciano as Tateh, and Bobby Steggert as Mother’s Younger Brother.

Christiane Noll’s vocals are stellar, and her rendition of “Back to Before” in Act Two, brings down the house. At the performance I saw, the conclusion of this song prompted shouts of “Brava”—a common occurrence at opera performances, but a rarity from musical theatre audiences. The accolades are well-deserved. Her entire performance is spot on.

Tateh, played by Manoel Felciano, is a poor immigrant. He and his daughter are traveling to America to seek a better life. Felciano’s performance evokes the fears and uncertainty that any immigrant must feel coming to this country. But Felciano’s Tateh is also full of hope and determination to provide a better life for his child. He is a skilled actor and demonstrates a keen rapport with his young co-star, Sara Rosenthal, who plays Tateh’s daughter, The Young Girl.

Mother’s Younger Brother, played by Bobby Steggert, offers another standout performance. When you first see Steggert, you might wonder how he could possible fit into this production—he seems shy, introverted, and nervous. What we discover however, is a young man struggling to understand who he is and coming to terms with the bigotry around him. Steggert allows us to see Younger Brother develop and make decisions—real choices about his place in the world. Throughout the show, we see him metamorphosis from a weak, nervous, misguided kid, to an assertive, strong-willed man who makes decisions based on what he believes rather than what his is told to believe. The transformation is breathtaking to witness.

This production looks different too. A magnificent three story metal structure designed by Derek McLane dominates the stage. The scaffolding-like set represents many places—auto assembly line, train station, immigration center, textile factory, and ultimately the JP Morgan Library in New York. The use of the platforms and stairs is ingenious and director/choreographer Marcia Milgrom Dodge takes full advantage of the space. Through her intricate staging, she brings life to an otherwise sculptural still life. The actors use the space effortlessly and never are we confused about where we are in time or place.

An original costume design by Santo Loquasto (who designed the original Broadway costumes) helps to reinforce the differences in class, race, and national origin. His subtle, yet distinct choices are beautifully executed and exaggerate the inherent conflict between the characters. Lighting design, by Donald Holder is equally effective, complimenting the entire production in a beautiful and theatrical way.

This Ragtime is exceptional. And while there is buzz about a New York transfer, do not risk missing it.

Ragtime at the Kennedy Center has been extended to May 17.

REVIEW: Blithe Spirit

Blithe Spirit, by Noël Coward, is a wonderful play. It is light, funny, and has been performed to death by community theatres from coast to coast. It is extremely difficult to pull off a great production of Blithe Spirit without brilliantly skilled performers. Fortunately, the current Broadway production of Blithe Spirit has a full cast of qualified and brilliant stars.

Angela Lansbury, who plays the eccentric Madame Arcati, is a joy to watch. Her every movement, gesture, or glance reflects an artist who is confident in her abilities and understands the process of developing a character. I’ve been a fan of Ms. Lansbury forever, and I was thrilled to have the opportunity to see her in this play. I was not disappointed. Her performance is finely honed and exactly right.

Lucky for the audience, Ms. Lansbury is surrounded by brilliant performers. Rupert Everett is Charles, Christine Ebersole is Elvira, and Jayne Atkinson is Ruth.

Rupert Everett is wonderful as Charles. He hits his stride early in Act One and carries it right through to the end of Act Two. Occasionally, an actor who spends most of his time in front of a camera is not convincing on a stage with a live audience. The two crafts are so different; it’s sometime hard to transition from one to the other. Not so with Mr. Everett. He seems at home on the stage.

Christine Ebersole, who won great acclaim for her performance in Grey Gardens, is magnificent as the spirited Elvira. She glides across the stage and is deliciously mischievous. Her movements are beautifully enhanced by the ethereal costume designed by Martin Paklidenaz. Ms. Ebersole also provides the vocals for the delightful interludes between scenes. The clear tone of her voice is unmistakable and the Noël Coward songbook works well to set the mood for the following scene.

Jayne Atkinson’s Ruth is troubled, stern, and venerable. While her character is somewhat unlikeable in Act One, by the middle of Act Two not only has she won us over, we feel sympathy for her.

Susan Louise O’Connor, in her Broadway debut, brilliantly plays the skittish servant, Edith. She is a bundle of energy and is appropriately comical. I look forward to seeing O’Connor in a more prominent role soon! She is a delight.

Simon Jones and Deborah Rush provide serviceable performances as Dr. and Mrs. Bradman.

Peter J. Davison provides a set design full of surprises and magic, and Brian MacDevitt’s lighting creates the appropriately eerie atmosphere for spirits to materialize.

Director, Michael Blakemore must have had fun with this show. Ms. Lansbury is extremely animated and I can only imagine the rehearsals where the two of them created her pre-séance warm-up routine. This cast appears to be having tremendous fun. That fun extends well beyond the proscenium and infects the audience. I thoroughly enjoyed their performances.

Blithe Spirit continues an open-ended run at the Shubert Theatre in New York City.

REVIEW: Exit the King

I love musical theatre; it’s a passion. To be honest, seeing a non-musical is not always something that I look forward to – especially an absurdist play by Eugene Ionesco.

But when the elements of a play work, they really work. Exit the King at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre really works. This theatrical brilliance is the result of collaboration between Geoffrey Rush and Neil Armfield who share credit for adapting Ionesco’s weighty text. Armfield also directs the production, and Rush takes a star turn as the ill-fated King Berenger. Berenger has single-handedly run his country into the ground—several wars have been lost, the environment is suffering, the country is in financial ruins and yet he refuses to acknowledge any of it.

Geoffrey Rush is a brilliant actor. His King Berenger is self-absorbed, demanding, and pathetically tragic. He attacks this role with gusto, and the result is a theatrical gift. It is rare to have the opportunity to see an actor of this caliber. His speeches seem like stream of consciousness ranting rather than scripted dialogue, and his physical performance is spontaneous and fresh. Rush dives into the world of Berenger and takes us along; we understand his needs, feel his pain, and ultimately experience his death together.

Rush and Armfield have assembled an all-star cast for this production. The King’s first wife, icy Queen Marguerite is played by Susan Sarandon, and his younger, vibrant and naïve second wife, Queen Marie, is played by Lauren Ambrose. Both talented actors do justice to their roles. Ambrose is wonderful as she flits about the stage doing everything she can to comfort her King and prolong the inevitable. Sarandon takes the opposite approach, portraying her Queen Marguerite as cold, calculating, and impatiently waiting for the King to die.

But the play is not all gloom and doom. Comic relief is provided by a team of supporting cast members lead by Andrea Martin as Juliette, the royal family’s nurse, housekeeper, cook and chief bottle washer. Martin is hysterical as she attempts to cater to the needs of each of her royal subjects.

The role of The Guard is masterfully played by Brian Hutchison who embraces this seemingly minor role and gives us the performance of a true artist. His affected speech pattern and exaggerated interpretation of The Guard captivates the audience. With perfect comic timing, he is responsible for one of the biggest laughs of the night—a moment that broke the concentration of both Sarandon and Ambrose who tried uncomfortably to conceal their laughter.

William Sadler delivers a serviceable performance in the role of The Doctor.

Dale Ferguson, set and costume designer, has created a simple, functional world for the King’s final hours. The lighting design by Damien Cooper illustrates Berenger’s angst as lights suspended over the audience pulse along with the King’s final heartbeats. John Rodgers, composer, provides a score so subtle and film-like that, if not for the live musicians in the Ethel Barrymore box seats, you might not notice it. If it were absent however, you would most definitely miss it.

The two hours between lights up and final bows is pure theatre. This story is masterfully told and brilliantly acted. Every element works in this intimate telling of a King’s final hours. We feel Berenger’s struggle to hold on. We are encouraged when he seems to gain energy. In the show’s final 15 minutes, as Marguerite methodically, patiently, and caringly escorts Berenger to his throne for the last time, we are with him—almost holding our breath as he climbs the stairs. And when he exhales for the last time, we are both relieved and saddened. But most of all, we are exhilarated by the amazing theatrical journey we have just taken.

Exit the King continues an open-ended run at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre on Broadway in New York City.

REVIEW: Shrek the Musical with a big, green heart!

What show looks like Spamalot, has the adult humor of Avenue Q, and features tongue in cheek nods to about a dozen iconic Broadway shows? The undeniable answer is Shrek, now playing on Broadway at the Broadway Theatre.

Shrek is fun. As a musical, there is really nothing new here—this is not earth-shattering, avant-garde theatre. The music by Jeanine Tesori is fine, the book and lyrics by David Linsay-Abaire are clever, and Jason Moore’s direction is effective. This team has created a perfectly entertaining evening on Broadway.

Tim Hatley, set, costume, and puppet designer, and Hugh Vanstone, lighting designer, have created a world for Shrek that looks and feels very similar to their Spamalot creation from a few years ago. The scene transitions are reminiscent of almost any major Broadway musical. But that’s ok because part of the charm of Shrek is the very intentional nod to other Broadway show moments.

To any avid theatre goer, Shrek is like taking a brilliant musical theatre history class where one gets to see moments from legendary shows including A Chorus Line, Dreamgirls, Sweet Charity, 42nd Street, Gypsy, Beauty and the Beast, and many more. Much of the theatre-insider humor is lost on the tourist audience, but for those of us who relish every musical theatre moment, these are the Easter eggs in the grass. It’s like a very high budget production of Forbidden Broadway.

At the very heart of Shrek is Brian D’Arcy James, who plays the big, green ogre. His voice is pure, and he is immensely likeable as the shunned monster. Sutton Foster’s Princess Fiona is demanding, funny and sentimental. When the two of them come together, there is magic in the air. But the real chemistry on stage is between D’Arcy James and his Donkey sidekick, played to perfection by Daniel Breaker. Breaker has comic timing and reaction of a caliber rarely seen on any stage. With one look or hoof gesture, Breaker says more than pages of written dialogue. Breaker and D’Arcy James look like they are having a great time. Their camaraderie feels real and their performances will almost certainly earn them both Tony nominations (leading and supporting actors in a musical).

The two other standout supporting actors are Christopher Sieber as the vertically challenged Lord Farquaad and John Tartaglia as Pinocchio. It seems a shame that both are forced to perform the show in some sort of torturous and unnatural style. Sieber is hysterical while playing Farquaad completely on his knees. Tartaglia delivers a wonderful wooden boy performance completely in falsetto. Both bring real heart to these extremely demanding roles.

Shrek has a simple story and message that works on many levels. For the kids, there is plenty of simple, funny, big green ogre humor. For adolescents and adults who still enjoy bathroom humor, you’ll find lots to make you laugh (including one scene that puts Blazing Saddles to shame). And for audiences of all ages there is the heart-warming lesson that people should be valued for who they are regardless of their differences. This message is reinforced by the entire company, lead by Pinocchio, in the show stopping production number, Freak Flag. We are reminded to embrace all people (aka Freaks), and to be ourselves, whether we are fat pigs, have religious differences (including witches), or are crossdressing predators like Little Red Riding Hood’s wolf (a self proclaimed "Tranny Hot Mess"). To punctuate the message, Pinocchio, in a high pitched and slightly effeminate voice, asserts, “I’m wood! I’m good! Get used to it!”

Shrek is a fun night of theatre. I suspect that parents who bring their children to see it will be forced to explain some of the adult humor. I particularly enjoyed listening to the concessionaire telling children they needed to get their parents’ permission to buy the shirt featuring a gingerbread man. The shirt simply says, “Eat me!”

The concessionaire explains to the child, “It sort of has a double meaning.” That could be said for much of Shrek, and that’s precisely what gives it such a heart.

Arlington’s Signature Theatre often takes risks. Frankly, that’s one of the things that I love about Signature. After almost 15 years as a subscriber, I’ve come to expect that I never quite know WHAT to expect at curtain time.

Sometimes what I see on stage blows me away! Sometimes what I see leaves me wondering why I went in the first place. Sometimes, the people I’m with love the show and I hate it. Sometimes my friends hate it, but I love it.

By the final blackout, we only see what we want to see.

See What I Want to See with music and words by Michael John LaChiusa is currently playing in Signature’s small, intimate theatre, The Ark. This curious show, based on short stories by Japanese writer Ryunosuke Akutagawa (1892 - 1927), consists of two acts that have little to do with each other. If you know the source material, you might understand the nod to Japanese culture that opens each act. If you don’t know the source, you will be left wondering what you’ve seen.

But, that feeling of confusion doesn’t end with the opening. As often happens when two completely different stories are told in a single evening of theatre and performed by the same ensemble, the audience (in effort to make sense of both pieces) subconsciously tries to make connections where there are none. In this case, one is left to wonder if the down on his luck accountant in Act Two, played by Tom Zemon, is related to the very successful businessman played by the same actor in Act One; or the cinema custodian accused of murder in Act One, played by Bobby Smith, has anything to do with the priest who questions his faith in Act Two. These connections—or misconnections—are further complicated by direction that forces the cast to mirror their own movements and staging from act to act.

While the stories are distinctly separate, told in different times (yet overlapping venues), there is a common, albeit loosely woven, theme. At its very core, See What I Want to See is about the power we have to make our own reality—define our truth.

How much does what we say, or do, or feel, define our beliefs? If we say something enough, does it become reality? Where is the line between lie and miracle? See What I Want to See explores exactly that. Unfortunately, it does so somewhat unsuccessfully. After two hours, we are left pondering what is real, or fantasy—what is meant by the staging, the stories, and the songs.

LaChiusa’s musical style is not melodic. It’s harsh, dissonant, and, at times, downright difficult to listen to. But there are shining moments of musical brilliance. The intricate harmonies in Act Two come together to create an unexpectedly lush sound—but only for a moment. All too soon, the music is again in discord and not so pleasing. To complicate, at the performance I saw, the orchestra competed for dominance and the performers were left struggling to be heard.

Overall, the cast excelled. Rachel Zampelli, as Kesa, The Wife, and An Actress, offered a beautiful performance, particularly as An Actress. Her vulnerability and insecurities were extremely well telegraphed. The real star of the show however, was Channez McQuay who does double duty as The Medium and The Aunt. Her two performances were so different, and at times so startling, that she captivated her audience. And in the only show-stopping number of the night, her turn in Act II was a rare treat in this show.

Matt Pearson's performance as The Thief was raw and spot on. His thug-like persona was true to the role, however, his Act Two character, A Reporter, seemed awkward at best. Having seen Pearson in at least two other roles, he seemed horribly miscast and wasted in this show. It almost seemed as if director, Matthew Gardiner, didn’t know what to do with this performer who has such a commanding stage presence.

Even though this show suffers, Signature Theatre and Gardiner should be applauded. This new, adventurous work is what Signature does well. It’s one of the reasons I continue to subscribe. And while these shows sometime work incredibly well (The Studio, ACE, Crave), other times they just don’t (The Lieutenant of Inishmore, and now See What I Want to See).

In this case, the message is both too vague and too heavy-handed, including a gratuitous reference to the tragedies of September 11. While I appreciate the attempt to make the story relevant, what I really wanted was just some good story-telling. I didn’t see it.

See What I Want to See – Words and Music by Michael John LaChiusa, based on short stories by Ryunosuke Akutagawa, as translated by Takashi Kojima, directed by Helen Hayes Award winner Matthew Gardiner. Extended to May 31 at the Signature Theatre, Arlington, VA.

REVIEW: Crowns

CROWNS – A REVIVAL FOR THE STAGE

There is a celebration in town—a revival of sorts—a celebration of heritage, faith, and symbolism.

Each night, at Washington, DC’s legendary Lincoln Theatre, six women and one man unite to create a rafter raising performance of Regina Taylor’s Crowns.

As part of Arena Restaged, a two year multi-venue festival of American Voices, Arena Stage brings us its fourth mounting of this Washington, DC favorite. And I have to confess, even through four mountings, this is my first experience seeing this exuberant musical.

Crowns is a fascinating piece. There is minimal storyline—young troubled teen, played by new-comer Zurin Villanueva, loses her brother to street violence in the big city, and is sent to live with her Southern grandmother where she learns what it means to be an African American woman. It sounds simple, and it is. But the story is really just a device to allow the music to take the stage.

Once she arrives in the South, a chorus of five strong black women, each with a story, and each with a poignant connection to her heritage, teach her everything she needs to know. Through chorus gospels and spiritual solos, these women give us the music. And their gift is powerful. The gospel rock sound pulls you along and before you know it, you are clapping and tapping right along with the cast. The cast is so energetic you can’t imagine them performing eight times a week, or at least, not eight performances at this same vigorous and joyous level.

E. Faye Butler is a standout. Her wise and sassy Mother Shaw leads the cast and offers a show-stopping performance in several of her numbers. Likewise, Natasha Yvette Williams is brilliant as Mabel. When she is in the background, you can barely take your eyes off of her. She is just fun to watch. And when she takes center stage to share her rules for wearing a hat, her comic timing is perfection. When she screams, “Don’t touch the hat!,” you know that you’d better heed her warning. And as the only male in the cast, Phillip Boykin plays multiple characters. His ability to convey emotion is tremendous, and his lush, deep voice is sublime.

However, the real star of Crowns is … well … the crowns. The numerous hats that appear in this production range from African-inspired to feathered to sequined to straw and felt. These creations, conceived by costume designer, Austin K. Sanderson are stunning and at times steal the show. In full disclosure, Austin was a friend in the mid-80’s when he lived across the hall from me at the North Carolina School of the Arts. I knew him well. Even back then, Austin had a penchant for over the top fashion, and in Crowns he has found the perfect vehicle for his amazing talent.

By the end of the 90 minute performance, you are exhausted and inspired. You have a better understanding of the importance of family, of heritage, and of finding one’s self. Crowns beckons its audience to take a deep look within, and when you give in, you emerge richer for it.

Crowns, by Regina Taylor, adapted from the book by Michael Cunningham and Craig Marberry, continues its run at the Lincoln Theatre through April 26, 2009.

REVIEW: Jesus Christ Superstar

Jesus, PLEASE Take This Heel
(with apologies to Carrie Underwood)

The Warner Theatre in Washington, DC often attracts short-run, non-union tours. Those two disclaimers alone do not automatically mean bad theatre. However, in the case of the currently running non-equity tour of Jesus Christ Superstar, bad does not begin to describe it.

Let me just start by saying I like Andrew Lloyd Webber. I always have. I love Phantom of the Opera, I took my family to see Cats (more than once), and I list Starlight Express as one of my favorite shows of all time. Jesus Christ Superstar is a classic. I grew up listening to the Original Cast Recording, and the Original Soundtrack of the film that followed. I like this show.

I did not however, like this production. More specifically, I did not like Ted Neeley who stars as Jesus.

Neeley was in the original 1971 Broadway cast where he played a Leper and understudied the role of Jesus. According to the Internet Broadway Database, this is his only Broadway credit. However, Neeley was selected to star as Jesus in the 1973 film version of JCS. Since that time, according to a recent Washington Post interview, Neeley has been traveling the world as Jesus in one production or another of Superstar. Over time, he seems to have slowly convinced himself that he IS in fact, Jesus Christ—or at a minimum, he seems to feel he was destined to play the role. I find this odd, since, in 1971 Neeley was simply a struggling actor going from audition to audition, finally landing his big break as a leper in a Broadway show.

The man is 66 years old—twice as old as Jesus was at crucifixion. While I support unconventional casting, Neeley’s age is so distracting it becomes difficult to watch. Perhaps his age would be less of an issue if the rest of the cast was also mature. But, the other actors were age-appropriate, further exaggerating Neeley’s age.

Neeley comes across as an actor who has banked his entire life on doing this role over and over and over. Onstage, Neeley displays no emotion. He meanders through the staging and seems lost most of the time. In fact, he has even developed his own style of “covering” when he has no idea what else to do. He simply stops wherever he is (usually center stage), turns to the audience, and begins having a silent pantomimed conversation with an invisible person (presumably God). This ridiculous pantomime happens so many times it becomes comical—at least 20 times—and I am not exaggerating for effect.

But his most egregious misstep is his vocals. He destroys the music. Everything he sings is either screamed or sung at a painfully slow tempo as if to milk every last note.

It’s a shame that Neeley is so bad in the show, because the rest of the cast is actually quite good. Judas, played by James Delisco is captivating. But his energy and passion (and incredible vocals) can’t make up for the damage Neeley does. Keep an eye on Delisco however. Because when this tour is over, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of him.

Neeley is not the only flaw in this production. Dallett Norris, the show’s director, deserves a great deal of the blame. He should have reigned in Neeley. But Norris’ vision of the show is also skewed. Part of the magic (and controversy) of the original production is that you never really see Jesus performing miracles. His “fame” comes from word of mouth and he neither denies nor confirms it. It’s a masterful subtlety that allows the theatergoer to make decisions for himself. This production, however, starts with Jesus bringing a man back to life. From the opening scene, there is no question about his powers—the audience is force-fed a single point of view. The result is that this Jesus Christ Superstar becomes nothing more than a bad Passion Play.

I left the theatre thinking how horrible it must be to be an actor in this show alongside the out of control Neeley, especially when you know how bad he is and how much better the show would be without him. Unfortunately, he has turned what should be an electrifying production, into a smalltown church bathrobe drama.

Jesus Christ Superstar continues its run in Washington through Sunday, March 22.

REVIEW: A Chorus Line - Still One Singular Sensation

If you were a producer and someone suggested that you mount a 25-year old show, you might feel the need to clean it up, modernize it, add new songs, or change things just to try to freshen the show. You might feel that you need to think outside the box to help the show resonate with a modern audience, or alter the story-line to make it as relevant as it was when it first opened.

Fortunately, the producers of A Chorus Line, currently running at Washington DC’s National Theatre did none of those things. And it works.

Everything about the revival works. Tharon Musser’s original lighting design, adapted by Natasha Katz, makes for a dramatic evening of theatre. Theoni V. Aldredge’s costumes look as fresh as they did in 1975 when the show landed on Broadway. But the genius of the show is, and always was, Michael Bennett, whose direction and choreography lives on in the capable hands of Baayork Lee and Bob Avian.

Lee and Avian know A Chorus Line. Lee was the original Connie in the Broadway production, as well as the Dance Captain and Assistant to Bennett, and Avian was originally credited as Co-Choreographer. Every magical moment that Bennett created is here, from the opening rehearsal piano count off to the moment when the orchestra kicks in and the stage explodes in dance, to the iconic image of the line—each performer holding his or her headshot squarely in front of his or her face.

When that breathtaking image arrives, seemingly spontaneously, the electricity transcends the confines of the proscenium.

Since the show opened on Broadway in 1975, there have been many National Tours, bus and truck companies, college and community productions. When A Chorus Line closed on April 28, 1990 after a record-breaking 15 year run, a revival was only to be expected. This tour is truly exceptional. The energy is there. The performers convey the urgency and passion that any young performer must have to make it on Broadway. However, at the performance I saw, the role of Paul, a young gay Latino dancer with a heart-wrenching story to share, was played by an understudy who was not up to the task. Paul is a critical role in the show. His legendary speech has become iconic in Broadway history, and his knee-injuring accident onstage is the impetus for the classic ballad, What I Did for Love. This young actor labored through the monologue and seemed to be struggling to remember his lines. The result was a performance where the audience felt sympathy for the actor and not the character.

But the show’s weakness of this one character is made up for in spades by the overwhelmingly solid performances delivered by the rest of the cast. Sebastian Le Cause’s Zach, the Director, is unforgiving and demanding, yet shows his sensitive and vulnerable side. Sheila, the aging Diva, is played to perfection by Shannon Lewis. Judy, an often unforgettable character, is memorably played by Bethany Moore. And the down on her luck Cassie, the one-time love interest of Zach and played by Robyn Hurder, spares nothing in her breathtaking Music and the Mirror solo dance.

Overall, the cast suffered from pitch problems one rarely hears in a production of this caliber. It almost seemed as though the sound monitors, permitting the performers to hear the orchestra, was malfunctioning. And of course, that could very well have been the case, as Washington audiences have come to expect poor sound quality at the National Theatre. At this performance, there was an unnecessary amount of popping and static, and in at least one case, a completely missed mic cue.

The years have been good to A Chorus Line. And it was truly a joy to live for two hours and ten minutes in the lives and dreams of those young performers.

A Chorus Line continues a limited run at the Washington National Theatre only until March 22.

REVIEW: Eurydice – Greek Mythology Meets the Stage

Greek mythology has long been an inspiration for theatre. Bethesda, MD’s Round House Theatre is currently featuring Sarah Ruhl’s Eurydice, based on the Greek myth concerning the fate of two young lovers, Orpheus and Eurydice.

When you enter the theatre, you are faced with a striking set of scaffolding and two stone playing spaces separated by water—clearly, one of the five rivers of Hades.

As the lights come up, we meet the two young lovers, Orpheus and Eurydice, played by Adriano Gatto and Jenna Sokolowski, and, after a slightly too long opening scene, the story begins to unfold. We quickly meet Interesting Man/Lord of the Underworld, artfully played by Mitchell Hébert, who lures an unsuspecting Eurydice to his apartment, and ultimately to her death. The moment of her demise is somewhat lost on the audience as the action takes place three stories above the audience. The real impact of her death is more effectively demonstrated in chilling fashion by a pained scream as Orpheus realizes that his love is gone.

Mitchell Hébert is wonderful in the role of the Interesting Man/Lord of the Underworld. His interpretation is playful, evil, and uncomfortably sensual. He owns the stage and you are immediately drawn into his grasp. His Interesting Man becomes so hypnotic that it is easy to see how he was able to lure Eurydice away from her own wedding party and to her death. Hébert’s performance is filled with quirks and antics that make the character real, yet it is so masterful that he never is reduced to cliché.

The most poignant moment of the evening belongs to Harry A. Winter, who as Eurydice’s Father, is a resident of Hades, waiting there to greet his daughter when she arrives. He tries feverishly to remind her of who he is, however, she has no recollection because of the ordeal of entering Hades. When Father realizes that Eurydice cannot remember him, he decides to serve her as a porter, as a way to stay close. This moving scene is beautifully staged and features a simple musical score that is absolutely perfect for the moment.

Harry A. Winter is a Washington theatre regular, and when properly cast, he is magnificent. While Winter’s range as an actor is somewhat limited, when he is right for a role, it’s difficult to imagine anyone else in it. And Harry A. Winter is perfect as Father. His performance is touching, heartfelt, and poignant—a believable interpretation of the love a father feels for his daughter, and the pain that is felt when he loses her.

However, the true stars of the evening are the three stones, Big Stone, Little Stone, and Loud Stone—a stone family that serves as an over-the-top version of a Greek chorus. The Stones, played by KenYatta Rogers, Linden Taylor, and Susan Lynskey, move in sequence, speak in sequence and operate as a unit. The direction and performances are extremely polished and well rehearsed. And these roles are most certainly exhausting as the performers are onstage nearly the entire evening, much of the time holding awkward poses or moving in unnatural ways. As an ensemble, these three talented actors are brilliant. Lynskey is particularly entrancing as she occasionally offers a tiny look or smile that changes the entire mood of the moment. The understated execution of her over-the-top role is genius.

Under Derek Goldman’s direction, the world of Hades doesn’t go far enough. The audience is left feeling like we’re missing something. There is tremendous opportunity to explore the world of Hades, which is visually teased as a Wonderland environment. But we never quite get there and at times, particularly as Orpheus once again sees Eurydice, the story and action nearly falls apart.

Sarah Ruhl fans might be disappointed with Eurydice, as her script just doesn’t go far enough. Some of her other works, including The Clean House and Dead Man’s Cell Phone, are much stronger. I wanted Ruhl to take more risks with the work, dive in deeper, and create more controversy on the stage. Instead, I was left with a somewhat interesting yet uninspired theatrical experience. I’m certain that I will soon forget this experience without the need to visit Lethe, the Hades river of forgetfulness.

Eurydice continues at the Round House Theatre until March 1, with Adriano Gatto, Mitchell Hébert, Susan Lynskey, KenYatta Rogers, Jenna Sokolowski, Linden Tailor, and Harry A. Winter.

Director: Derek Goldman; Scenic Designer: Clint Ramos; Costume Designer: Kathleen Geldard; Lighting Designer: Colin K. Bills; Sound Designer: Matthew M. Nielson; Dramaturge: Jacqueline E. Lawton; Stage Manager: Keri Schultz.

REVIEW: Hell Meets Henry Halfway

There are some shows that arrive with such anticipation that you can barely contain yourself as you watch the calendar click by, leading up to the date shown on your ticket. For those shows, you arrive at the theater early, dutifully read the program notes, and triple check your cell phone to ensure that the ringer is off so that your experience is not muddled by an unfortunate ring or vibration.

Then there are shows that you just don’t care about, but you feel like you should see them anyway. Often, these shows are introduced with fanfare from the producing house, who trumpets the arrival of an imported theatre troupe known for “physical performances that defy easy categorization.”

Ladies and gentlemen! The Woolly Mammoth Theater Company proudly presents: The Philadelphia-based Pig Iron Theatre Company and their Obie Award-winning Hell Meets Henry Halfway!

I was eager to see this production, and when Sunday evening finally rolled around, I was excited enough to arrive at the theater early, read the program notes, and settle in for a fine performance.

I could not have been more disappointed by the reality that soon set in.

Hell Meets Henry Halfway is a bizarre production. I’m not sure what happened, who the characters were, or what exactly it all meant. The two-hour performance featured a cast of over-the-top characters—all seemingly stuck somewhere between a community theatre production of The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940 and a sketch from the Carol Burnett Show.

The cast however, bears little responsibility for this show’s annoying and disjointed style. For the most part, their performances are good – some are even exceptional. Steve Cuiffo, in the role of Dr. Peter Hincz, the mysterious doctor, brings comic timing which borders on genius. Other notables are Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel as Marian Walchak, the not-so-qualified (or athletic) tennis coach, and Sarah Sanford as Maya Okholovska, whose brooding style reminds you every spoiled child turned adult you’ve known.

The actors are not to blame here. The show is simply flawed.

After two confusing hours, (and two hours listening to a methodic thumping that is part of the never-ending sound design), I was left wondering what I had seen, and WHY it was put on a stage in the first place.

And, I had a headache to boot. Thanks Woolly.

Hell Meets Henry Halfway, text by Adriano Shaplin, after Possessed by Witold Gombrowicz, directed by Dan Rothenberg, created and conceived by Pig Iron Theatre Company. The cast includes: Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel, Steve Cuiffo, Bel Garcia, Sarah Sanford, James Sugg, and Dito van Reigersberg. Performances continue through March 1.

Art, Theater, and Marching Bands

One of the best things about living in the Washington, DC area is that there is always something to do, to see, or to experience in downtown DC.

Today was a triple header—we went to see the Lino Tagliapietra exhibit at DC’s Renwick Gallery. The exhibit closes today, so if you didn’t see it, I’m sorry. You really should have. If you are a fan of art glass, you may be familiar with Tagliapietra’s work. He is an Italian artist from Murano, who creates brilliant glass art. His work is absolutely breathtaking, and ordinarily I would encourage you to rush to the Renwick Gallery to see it. Unfortunately, as I mentioned, the exhibit closed today. At the very least, you should check out his work online. It really is stunning.

Getting to the Renwick was a bit more of a challenge than we anticipated. The Renwick is across the street from the White House, and today was a full dress rehearsal for Barack Obama’s Inauguration, including the parade. Streets were closed to traffic. We were able to park the car and wind our way to the Renwick on foot. Just crossing the street proved to be a challenge. There were marching bands, military units, horses and everything you would expect in a parade. The bands played, the soldiers marched, and the horses pranced. Everyone and everything was there, of course except for the new President.

This was as close to the actual Inauguration as I will get. Not because I’m not a Barack Obama fan. Actually, I am a huge fan of our new President. I’m just not a fan of crowds. And even today at the rehearsal of the event, the crowd was enough to make me want to race home. I admit, it was exciting to be part of the activity—even if it was a week or so early. And it was just a rehearsal.
The main event of the day, our primary purpose for venturing downtown, was to see Mike Daisey’s How Theater Failed America currently in performance at the Woolly Mammoth Theatre.

Mike Daisey is a monologist. Last year, he brought his highly successful, If You See Something, Say Something, to the Woolly. The style of his newest monologue is familiar, a single table, a glass of water, and a few pages of notes. And for the two hours that follow his first entrance, Mike Daisey is brilliant.

Much of the advance press signaled that Daisey would skewer the theater as an institution for becoming too commercial and too mainstream, and pointing to the lack of funding as reason for the sad state of American theater. In reality, Daisey offers a glimpse into the world of struggling theaters, and he makes his audience think about their role in it. His commentary is focused more on the flawed process of theater rather than assigning blame. He insightfully explains how theaters, in order to demonstrate value, must also demonstrate growth by increasing audience, producing sure fire hits, and building fantastic new buildings. He explains in detail, that once a new building is erected, the shows become safer in order to maintain the audiences. The only place for the “risky art” is the small black box theater in the basement; not the big, glorious new state of the art theater.

Daisey’s animated style is captivating. The two hours fly by, and he becomes so involved in telling his story, it is nearly impossible to remain a spectator. You feel such a connection to him; it is almost like having a private conversation with him over a few beers after a performance.

The monologue is extremely funny, poignant, evocative, and entertaining. We learn about being a struggling artist, an educator who has too much insight into the unachievable dreams of his student, and we see a moving side of Daisey who shares very personal information about the demons an artist sometimes faces.

Mike Daisey’s How Theater Failed America runs at the Woolly Mammoth until January 18. If you have ever worked in the theater, have had any theater training, support the theater community, or just occasionally go to see a show, you really should see this work. Mike Daisey will help you gain a new perspective of the theater, and you will get to see a master at work.

NCSA Pickles –Sweet and Sour Memories

I’m feeling a bit nostalgic; I hope you’ll forgive this random (non review) posting.

Tonight, I joined a new group on

Facebook. It’s called, NCSA Students for the Reinstatement of the Pickles Homecoming Game (2009). Contrary to its name, the group is open to both current students and alumni. If you are not familiar with the North Carolina School of the Arts (NCSA), you probably aren’t familiar with the school mascot, the Pickle.

As a proud Pickle, I feel obligated to bring you up to speed. Winston-Salem is known for several things, RJ Reynolds Tobacco, Krispy Kreme, Old Salem, and the North Carolina School of the Arts. The North Carolina School of the Arts (NCSA) is an arts conservatory, in the conservative Winston-Salem, NC. There are six schools within the NCSA family, Drama, Music, Design and Production, Dance, Visual Arts, and Film. Each class is small and the competition is fierce. The competition is fueled by a keen dedication to each student’s chosen arts field. The school has a reputation for turning out fine talent including Mary Louise-Parker (Star of Weeds), Joe Mantello (Director of Wicked and Take Me Out), Peter Hedges (Writer of the film, Pieces of April), Tichina Vaughn (Recording Artist and Opera Star), Paul Tazewell (Tony Nominated Costume Designer, In the Heights), Tom Hulce (Oscar Nominee for Amadeus and Producer of Spring Awakening), and …. yes, you guessed it …. Me.

I graduated in 1987 and I have put many college memories behind me. But with Facebook, my memories are haunting me again, and I find myself glued to the steady stream of updates from “best friends” that I haven’t seen in 20+ years. Seeing the success of my contemporaries makes me proud, and makes me miss the good old days.

Today’s new group membership brought back a flood of memories from one of my favorite times on the college campus—the annual Homecoming game. Even though NCSA is an arts school, we had a football game. The NCSA Pickles were a group of folks who were cobbled together from every arts discipline, and played a fraternity from the neighboring college, Wake Forest University. The joke was always on Wake Forest. They had no idea what mockery was about to ensue.

It must have been about 1985. The Homecoming parade started at one of the student dorms and wound its way down to the field. Our campus was tiny, so the entire parade route took about 5 minutes. There were no floats. The single entry in the parade was the NCSA “marching band" which featured one set of bagpipes, and about 6 or 7 other assorted instruments. There was no fancy formation, just a casual saunter to the field.

Before the game began, the "Blue Angels" did a fly-over to honor NCSA (courtesy of the Design and Production sound designers and special effects artists). The crowd cheered as the NCSA Pickles took the field for warm-ups before the game. You should have seen the look of the Wake Forest jocks as our mismatched players carried portable dance bars onto the field and launched into a full dance warm up class.

The national anthem signaled the start of the game. It was sung in full falsetto by my friend G. Gary Winley. G. was a very large African American man who had the gift of a crystal clear falsetto. And at intermission, (what? at a performing arts school, you’d expect a half-time?) I had the privilege of crowning the Homecoming "queen.” Yes, the Homecoming queen was a proud gay male costume designer named Austin.

It was a beautiful day. And I will forever be a Pickle.

Pickles are not always sour. For me, my Pickle memories are very sweet.

Go Pickles!